And So This is Me (and I think everyone should write one of these)
Twitter is a strange thing. You can go to a complete stranger's history and scroll through things they've said. After reading something about actor Ian Bohen on . . . oh, I forget where, I became curious and went through his twitter feed to find a remark that some considered controversial. I won't go into what the statement was, but in general, it wasn't SO terrible,yet I can understand why people were upset.
Here's my problem. When you dig further, you come to his explanation and breakdown of the intent behind his words. He made a great deal of sense, and it became clear that he truly hadn't meant the tweet the way it was perceived. Yet, for some, this was not enough for some people. As though they wanted to be angry, they picked apart his explanation, and pinged on particular words and sentences, insisting that they were still insulted because of what THEY hear when such words are spoken. We'll ignore the fact that he kind of said exactly that in his breakdown of the Tweet's intent.
We all have flaws, and we all have perfections- I can't say 'strengths' can I? Not if I didn't say 'weakness', because what is the opposite of 'flawed', if not 'perfect'? It wasn't just this one incident, though. I've been reading a lot recently of people overreacting and misinterpreting things other people write, or say. Not because the person said anything truly bad or inflammatory, really (not when you look at the words, at the person, and at the intent behind the statement), but because we all feel like we 'know' each other in this age of social media, we easily take to heart things perceived-by no one but ourselves- as a criticism. We let ourselves get angry, because we assume that when someone we don't even know uses a particular word or expression, they MUST know what WE think of that word. They MUST have been trying to insult us, or to deliberately misunderstand why the word might offend us.
But the problem is, in this day and age of social media, of constant contact, we FEEL that we know one another . . . yet we actually DON'T. Not if you haven't taken the time to, good old fashioned directly interact with a person. Having a celebrity reply to your Tweet doesn't mean you know them. Having a 'friend of a friend' on your FB friends list does not an all-encompassing knowledge of WHO that person is inside make.
And so, for the people who think they know me, the people who know they don't, and the people who have just come into my life, I present a list, as honest and as open as I can make it, about myself. Physical, emotional, mental . . . Who I am behind this computer screen, because I think one of the things this new age of constant contact has brought us is a fear of really baring our souls to anyone, anymore. And as a desperately, ridiculously shy person, myself, let me tell you, the 'impersonal' nature of internet communication has allowed me to befriend, and know some wonderful people, but it's that very thing that means that if I'd crossed these people's paths in real life, I probably wouldn't even know their names.
My full name is Gerilyn Denise Lent-Marin. I was born & raised Roman Catholic 'til the age of 14, at which point my mother insisted I at least go through with confirmation (confirmation name is 'Lucy'), in case some day I wished to marry in a Catholic church. I am, by choice, Pagan. No, I'm not a witch, Mother Nature and I are just cool like that.
I am 5'3 and 1/2 . . . 3/4's if I'm standing very straight while wearing sneakers.
I'm 35, my birthday is in December. I looked very young for however old I've been most of my life, which seems to still be true, as I currently can pass for 25. Unless I'm tired and feeling haggard, then I look closer to my age.
I was bullied until I was 17.
I practiced the martial art of Tae Kwon Do from the ages of 14-20 & was part of the Dance & Gymnastics club in my public school in 5th & 6th grade.
I dislike gold, but wear a lot of silver (and leather >_>) jewelry; bracelets, rings, earrings . . . . If you see me wearing gold, it's probably a gift. Or I've suffered some sort of head trauma, you might want to check me for a concussion.
I'm a vegetarian. I still eat diary, and will very occasionally indulge in sushi. No, I will not give you shit if you're a meat-eater. If I'm going to judge you as a person, it will be based on what you do and who you show yourself to be, not what you choose to ingest.
I recently struggled (and eventually won) with weight loss. I would still like to lose more, but the gods smiled upon me in that I don't look my weight, so I can take my time with the rest of it so long as I keep at it.
I don't have a lot-never have- but I am a 'shirt off my back', type of person. If I have it, and you need it, it's yours. I can't imagine knowing someone needs something that I have, something that I do not need, and still keeping it for myself.
I will never be perfect, not physically, anyway. I am aware that I'm perceived as 'pretty', even 'hot', depending on who's looking XD. I will never be gorgeous. I will never be some stunning creature that takes one's breath away with a glance. When all trappings are removed, I will never look the way television, movies and magazines portray women to look. I have curves, I have things that make me go 'ugh, don't look at me'. I'm a li'l white girl, with a butt and boobs in a society that still largely views certain physical features as only belonging to particular ethnicities. I have little folds, and even a few dimples where perhaps there shouldn't be. But I will also never put up pictures of plus-sized models and say 'this is how REAL women look' (even if the magazine images are photoshopped, that's still a real woman beneath the airbrushing). Partly because I fall into 'somewhere in the middle,' between the Victoria's Secret angels and the Layne Bryant girls, and partly because who am I to decide I'm more or less of anything than another woman?
My hair is thick and naturally dark blonde, though I'm partial to dying it shades of red. I keep it long because as a child, my mother insisted on keeping it all chopped off, all the time. I was a GIRL, dammit!
My eyes are hazel, but because I wear mostly black (I classify myself as an 'old-school goth) they often appear brown. Which means I'm very surprised when someone I only see while I'm wearing what I usually wear notices my true eye color.
Yes, I have tasted blood. No, it wasn't an accident or due to an injury inside my mouth.
I have Native American ancestry on both my mother's and father's sides, but it is just far enough removed that it is not obvious from looking at anyone currently alive in my family.
I prefer cats over dogs. I like dogs, but A) I'm allergic B) cats are independent creatures who can cohabitate with you without much effort on your part.
I believe openly in things my atheist friends scoff at, but whatever, they're my beliefs, I'm entitled to them, and I don't go around cramming my beliefs- or lack thereof- down anyone else's throat. I believe in reincarnation, I believe that ghost and spirits, and generally non-human entities we cannot perceive roam this earth. I believe in the possibility of the Ancient Alien theory. Why not? I mean, if someone else can believe an invisible man in the sky created the earth in 7 days, and there's NO life anywhere else in the ENTIRE universe 'cause humanity is just that fuckin' special, then I'm free to believe it's POSSIBLE that an advanced race took a trip here millennia ago and maybe gave us a nudge here and there.
My IQ is approximately 130, though I can't really test properly 'cause I suck at math. I don't normally perceive myself as an intelligent person, though realistically, I do know that I am. Why? Because I can follow along with intellectual, or philosophical discussion without needing anything 'dumbed down' . . . Unless you start tossing around scientific terms, then I'm lost, hence why I feel like I'm generally not a very smart individual.
I'm a creative-type, through and through. I can't hold down an office job, mostly 'cause after a while I just don't want to do it. I'm an author. I love to write, I enjoy drawing, and though I'm good at it, I'm no artist, my work will never grace a book cover. I have rhythm on a dance floor, and can carry a tune, but don't ever expect to hear me belt out the National Anthem.
I'm a wife and a mother of 4 (3 boys, 1 girl). And there are days when I'm so frustrated with my lot in life that I just want to run for the hills, screaming bloody murder. But then I remind myself how spectacular they make my world, and how very much they make every day worth so much more.
I suck at telling the truth if I think that truth will bring about conflict. I generally do not like confrontation, but, if I get into a nasty argument with you, it means one of two things: You're very dear to me and I can be myself with you, even if we disagree, or I don't know you/don't like you, so I don't care if me screaming in your face makes you hate the very sight of me.
Despite my socially anxious nature, I will connect with certain people in an instant. I will get into conversations that last for hours and manage to be about everything and nothing all at once with someone I've just met. I don't connect with others often at all, really, but when I do, it is instantaneous, and even if I never meet them again, I don't think either of us ever forgets.
I'm impatient, fussy, short-tempered.
I enjoy my sleep, but I'm also used to not sleeping. I've had a close, grudging relationship since I was 11 years old. One night, I had a headache so severe that I couldn't sleep. I stayed up all night crying and watched the sun rise through my bedroom window. Since then, a night's sleep has never been an easy thing for me to manage.
I am generous, caring, kind, overly sensitive. I bawl myself to sleep over things in this world I have no control over and can possibly never hope to affect.
I guess that's me in a coconut-sized shell. Anyone else? It's not as painful as you think, I promise.
Here's my problem. When you dig further, you come to his explanation and breakdown of the intent behind his words. He made a great deal of sense, and it became clear that he truly hadn't meant the tweet the way it was perceived. Yet, for some, this was not enough for some people. As though they wanted to be angry, they picked apart his explanation, and pinged on particular words and sentences, insisting that they were still insulted because of what THEY hear when such words are spoken. We'll ignore the fact that he kind of said exactly that in his breakdown of the Tweet's intent.
We all have flaws, and we all have perfections- I can't say 'strengths' can I? Not if I didn't say 'weakness', because what is the opposite of 'flawed', if not 'perfect'? It wasn't just this one incident, though. I've been reading a lot recently of people overreacting and misinterpreting things other people write, or say. Not because the person said anything truly bad or inflammatory, really (not when you look at the words, at the person, and at the intent behind the statement), but because we all feel like we 'know' each other in this age of social media, we easily take to heart things perceived-by no one but ourselves- as a criticism. We let ourselves get angry, because we assume that when someone we don't even know uses a particular word or expression, they MUST know what WE think of that word. They MUST have been trying to insult us, or to deliberately misunderstand why the word might offend us.
But the problem is, in this day and age of social media, of constant contact, we FEEL that we know one another . . . yet we actually DON'T. Not if you haven't taken the time to, good old fashioned directly interact with a person. Having a celebrity reply to your Tweet doesn't mean you know them. Having a 'friend of a friend' on your FB friends list does not an all-encompassing knowledge of WHO that person is inside make.
And so, for the people who think they know me, the people who know they don't, and the people who have just come into my life, I present a list, as honest and as open as I can make it, about myself. Physical, emotional, mental . . . Who I am behind this computer screen, because I think one of the things this new age of constant contact has brought us is a fear of really baring our souls to anyone, anymore. And as a desperately, ridiculously shy person, myself, let me tell you, the 'impersonal' nature of internet communication has allowed me to befriend, and know some wonderful people, but it's that very thing that means that if I'd crossed these people's paths in real life, I probably wouldn't even know their names.
My full name is Gerilyn Denise Lent-Marin. I was born & raised Roman Catholic 'til the age of 14, at which point my mother insisted I at least go through with confirmation (confirmation name is 'Lucy'), in case some day I wished to marry in a Catholic church. I am, by choice, Pagan. No, I'm not a witch, Mother Nature and I are just cool like that.
I am 5'3 and 1/2 . . . 3/4's if I'm standing very straight while wearing sneakers.
I'm 35, my birthday is in December. I looked very young for however old I've been most of my life, which seems to still be true, as I currently can pass for 25. Unless I'm tired and feeling haggard, then I look closer to my age.
I was bullied until I was 17.
I practiced the martial art of Tae Kwon Do from the ages of 14-20 & was part of the Dance & Gymnastics club in my public school in 5th & 6th grade.
I dislike gold, but wear a lot of silver (and leather >_>) jewelry; bracelets, rings, earrings . . . . If you see me wearing gold, it's probably a gift. Or I've suffered some sort of head trauma, you might want to check me for a concussion.
I'm a vegetarian. I still eat diary, and will very occasionally indulge in sushi. No, I will not give you shit if you're a meat-eater. If I'm going to judge you as a person, it will be based on what you do and who you show yourself to be, not what you choose to ingest.
I recently struggled (and eventually won) with weight loss. I would still like to lose more, but the gods smiled upon me in that I don't look my weight, so I can take my time with the rest of it so long as I keep at it.
I don't have a lot-never have- but I am a 'shirt off my back', type of person. If I have it, and you need it, it's yours. I can't imagine knowing someone needs something that I have, something that I do not need, and still keeping it for myself.
I will never be perfect, not physically, anyway. I am aware that I'm perceived as 'pretty', even 'hot', depending on who's looking XD. I will never be gorgeous. I will never be some stunning creature that takes one's breath away with a glance. When all trappings are removed, I will never look the way television, movies and magazines portray women to look. I have curves, I have things that make me go 'ugh, don't look at me'. I'm a li'l white girl, with a butt and boobs in a society that still largely views certain physical features as only belonging to particular ethnicities. I have little folds, and even a few dimples where perhaps there shouldn't be. But I will also never put up pictures of plus-sized models and say 'this is how REAL women look' (even if the magazine images are photoshopped, that's still a real woman beneath the airbrushing). Partly because I fall into 'somewhere in the middle,' between the Victoria's Secret angels and the Layne Bryant girls, and partly because who am I to decide I'm more or less of anything than another woman?
My hair is thick and naturally dark blonde, though I'm partial to dying it shades of red. I keep it long because as a child, my mother insisted on keeping it all chopped off, all the time. I was a GIRL, dammit!
My eyes are hazel, but because I wear mostly black (I classify myself as an 'old-school goth) they often appear brown. Which means I'm very surprised when someone I only see while I'm wearing what I usually wear notices my true eye color.
Yes, I have tasted blood. No, it wasn't an accident or due to an injury inside my mouth.
I have Native American ancestry on both my mother's and father's sides, but it is just far enough removed that it is not obvious from looking at anyone currently alive in my family.
I prefer cats over dogs. I like dogs, but A) I'm allergic B) cats are independent creatures who can cohabitate with you without much effort on your part.
I believe openly in things my atheist friends scoff at, but whatever, they're my beliefs, I'm entitled to them, and I don't go around cramming my beliefs- or lack thereof- down anyone else's throat. I believe in reincarnation, I believe that ghost and spirits, and generally non-human entities we cannot perceive roam this earth. I believe in the possibility of the Ancient Alien theory. Why not? I mean, if someone else can believe an invisible man in the sky created the earth in 7 days, and there's NO life anywhere else in the ENTIRE universe 'cause humanity is just that fuckin' special, then I'm free to believe it's POSSIBLE that an advanced race took a trip here millennia ago and maybe gave us a nudge here and there.
My IQ is approximately 130, though I can't really test properly 'cause I suck at math. I don't normally perceive myself as an intelligent person, though realistically, I do know that I am. Why? Because I can follow along with intellectual, or philosophical discussion without needing anything 'dumbed down' . . . Unless you start tossing around scientific terms, then I'm lost, hence why I feel like I'm generally not a very smart individual.
I'm a creative-type, through and through. I can't hold down an office job, mostly 'cause after a while I just don't want to do it. I'm an author. I love to write, I enjoy drawing, and though I'm good at it, I'm no artist, my work will never grace a book cover. I have rhythm on a dance floor, and can carry a tune, but don't ever expect to hear me belt out the National Anthem.
I'm a wife and a mother of 4 (3 boys, 1 girl). And there are days when I'm so frustrated with my lot in life that I just want to run for the hills, screaming bloody murder. But then I remind myself how spectacular they make my world, and how very much they make every day worth so much more.
I suck at telling the truth if I think that truth will bring about conflict. I generally do not like confrontation, but, if I get into a nasty argument with you, it means one of two things: You're very dear to me and I can be myself with you, even if we disagree, or I don't know you/don't like you, so I don't care if me screaming in your face makes you hate the very sight of me.
Despite my socially anxious nature, I will connect with certain people in an instant. I will get into conversations that last for hours and manage to be about everything and nothing all at once with someone I've just met. I don't connect with others often at all, really, but when I do, it is instantaneous, and even if I never meet them again, I don't think either of us ever forgets.
I'm impatient, fussy, short-tempered.
I enjoy my sleep, but I'm also used to not sleeping. I've had a close, grudging relationship since I was 11 years old. One night, I had a headache so severe that I couldn't sleep. I stayed up all night crying and watched the sun rise through my bedroom window. Since then, a night's sleep has never been an easy thing for me to manage.
I am generous, caring, kind, overly sensitive. I bawl myself to sleep over things in this world I have no control over and can possibly never hope to affect.
I guess that's me in a coconut-sized shell. Anyone else? It's not as painful as you think, I promise.
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